


What Happens Next

by kouredios



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-06 02:26:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouredios/pseuds/kouredios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fluffy, fluffy fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lizzie's Birthday Present

**Author's Note:**

> Thrown together after watching "Gratitude" one too many times. Un-beta'd.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Episode tag to #98, "Gratitude"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up writing a continuation, and so reconfigured these fics as chapters of the same piece. I may continue it soon, but it's going to depend on whether I can finish my dissertation chapter this weekend first. This show has completely taken over my brain!

Lizzie turned off the camera, and turned back to him.

“I think we’ve given them enough of that, don’t you?” She leaned in, hiding her grin in his chest. It was too big for her face, and if she didn’t cover it, she felt as if her cheeks would split. Her chest felt equally about to explode. She couldn’t stop touching him...his vest, his tie...she looked up into his face, petting his buttons. “What do we do now?”

Now that she had finally admitted her feelings to him, Darcy’s awkwardness had evaporated. He smiled smugly and stroked her cheek again. “What do you want to do now? It is your birthday, after all. What is your wish?”

Lizzie turned pensive. It would be very, very easy to wish for him to take her to Netherfield and never stop touching her. And part of her wanted that, very much. But this was so new and still a bit fragile. Besides, it was still Charlotte’s birthday too, and it would not do to abandon her and their plans entirely.

“Are you hungry?” she asked Darcy, with a twist to her lips. Her face broke into a grin at the consternation on his face. “As much as I’d love to sit here and make out with you for the rest of the evening, I did have plans with Charlotte. And she came all the way in from LA. I can’t just ignore her for the rest of the night.” She dipped in to plant a quick kiss on his lips. “Would you like to join us for Chinese food and period drama? I understand there will be lots...of...costumes.”

Darcy had begun to stiffen with her last sentence. “No, you weren’t expecting me. I understand. You have your evening with Charlotte. I can come back tomorrow.”

It was all Lizzie could do not to roll her eyes at him. “Listen, William. If this is going to work we’re going to need to start listening to each other and stop assuming that the other person doesn’t actually mean what they say. You asked me what I want. What I _want_ is to cuddle with you on the sofa, while we both share honey walnut shrimp with Charlotte and watch the newest _Jane Eyre._ Please."

Darcy smiled at her. “I think I can manage that.” He leaned in again, nuzzling the side of her face and breathing into her ear. “As long as I don’t have to stop touching you.”

Lizzie took him by the hand, leading him to the food and the sofa. “You’d better not.”


	2. One Perfect Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after "Gratitude," Lizzie Bennet and William Darcy make plans to spend the day together.

They had fallen asleep on the couch watching _Jane Eyre_ , so it was still possible to say that they had spent the night together. _Technically true_ , thought Lizzie, as she ran her hands through her hair in the shower, _if a bit misleading._ They had woken up warm and close, smiling at each other as the morning light shone in and the early-day noises started from the direction of the kitchen.

Acutely aware of the possibility of gross morning breath, Lizzie had chosen to nuzzle instead of kiss Darcy while simultaneously poking him in the side. “We have to get up. Lydia’s going to bounce in here any second. I’m surprised she hasn’t already.” 

Darcy had raised an eyebrow, “The prospect of your sister finding us fully clothed on this sofa is not _quite_ enough to convince me to give up its comforts at this point in time.” Clearly not as concerned about morning breath, he kissed her soundly. Lizzie stretched out beneath him, rolling her body from its cramped position into a geometry that enabled them both to cover more surface area. Then, reluctantly, she broke the kiss. Smiling to take the sting out of her words she said, “Whoa, boy. I’m not entirely sure she’d find us fully clothed if that were to go on much longer. C’mon. Let’s get some coffee.”

Leaving the sofa while not breaking contact was difficult, but they managed it. Holding hands, they entered the kitchen. Tentatively, a bit reluctant to endure her mother’s cooing just yet, Lizzie ducked her head into the breakfast nook, and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw only Lydia sitting there. Lydia beamed at them. She had been so much more subdued since the incident, and Lizzie almost found herself disappointed when Lydia didn’t make a suggestive remark or a sarcastic dig. Almost. 

What Lydia did do was leap over to Darcy and hug him with all her might, which was more than slightly awkward because Lizzie still had his hand intertwined with hers. There was really nothing else to do but to let go for the moment. Lizzie retreated to the cabinet to fetch some coffee cups while Lydia gushed over Darcy profusely.

“Really, Darcy, I can’t thank you enough. I know you did it for Lizzie, but I’m just so grateful. I need you to know how much I appreciate it.” When Lizzie turned away from the cabinet, she saw Darcy looking down at the top of Lydia’s head, arms curled around, but not touching her form as she squeezed him. He looked up at Lizzie, a questioning look on his face, as she took the two cups over to the coffee machine. “Take it easy, Lyds. He just woke up, and he hasn’t even had any coffee.” She carried one cup over to him, black. He had told her once at Pemberley that he had trained himself to drink coffee black so that he could always gracefully accept a cup and drink it, in any situation-- and that example of his thoughtfulness had embedded itself in her brain at a time when she was still surprised to learn how thoughtful he really was.

Darcy accepted the coffee from Lizzie with a warm smile and patted Lydia on the head with his other hand. “It wasn’t just for Lizzie, really. George Wickham had hurt my sister, and I couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting another. Not when I had the means to stop him. It was also...” and at this he stopped to sip from his cup. “...deeply satisfying to get the best of him.”

Lydia gave this statement a nod, but Lizzie could see a quick frown cross her face at the mention of Wickham. She leaned over to give her sister a hug, too. Lydia took a deep breath and then her old chipper self was back. “You two should get a move on if you don’t want to run into Mom this morning. She’s out running errands right now, but you know she’s going to corner you the minute she’s got the chance.”

It was Lizzie’s turn to raise her eyebrows. “She’s not here? How did you manage to get her out of the house? She knows we fell asleep in the living room, right?”

Lydia just gave her big sister a sly grin. “I have my ways! I may have dropped a hint that Wedding World was having a half-price sale on mother-of-the-bride dresses, and that if she hurried, she could get two for the price of one this morning.” Cackling, Lydia sidestepped her sister’s swipe at her, and gave a little finger wave to Darcy, and then disappeared.

“Oh. my. god.” Lizzie covered her face in her hand. “I am so sorry. Are you absolutely sure I’m worth it? I don’t think you’ve actually seen the worst my family has to offer.”

Darcy chuckled. “You’re worth all of it, and more. Don’t worry. I can handle your mother. But Lydia’s idea is good. Let’s get out of here for the day. Last night was lovely, but I think I’d like to spend an actual whole day with you, fully awake. Lizzie Bennet,” and at this, he held out his hand to her in an almost courtly manner, “Would you do me the honor of spending the day with me?”

After weeks of no Darcy, coming on the tail of short, unpredictable bursts of seeing him at Pemberley Digital, the idea of spending one whole day together-- just the two of them-- sounded heavenly. “Mr. Darcy,” she drawled, placing her hand in his, “it would be my pleasure.” She shifted back into her regular voice. “Really, that sounds lovely. Just give me about half an hour to shower and change, and we can be off.”

Darcy pulled her in for one more quick kiss before they separated. “One half hour. I shall return then.” He gave her nose a last peck and then left for Netherfield.

Lizzie stepped out of the shower and into her robe as she pondered her clothing choices. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss any actual plans, so she couldn’t be sure what to wear. But she was running out of time, so she decided that tailored jeans and a cute sweater was her best bet for any destination, and was just finishing drying her hair when the doorbell rang.

“Lydia? Lyds, can you get that?” But there was no answer. Fantastic. Lizzie ran down the stairs with still-damp hair and no makeup. She opened the door to a freshly-scrubbed Darcy. He looked amazing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a tie,” Lizzie murmured, as her hands were once more drawn to his chest. Darcy pulled her to him, holding her firmly at the small of her back and kissed her deeply without a word.

“You look amazing,” he breathed when they finally came up for air. She giggled at him. “I have no makeup on and my hair’s still wet.” She took her hands off him for just a moment to run her hands through her hair and twist it up on the top of her head. He took the opportunity to trace her arms from her wrists down to her waist. She giggled again when he passed through her armpits, but stopped abruptly went he got back to her waist. “Okay, yeah. We need to get out of here. Do you have a plan?”

“I have some ideas. If you approve...I don’t want to presume to decide for both of us, but I thought that you might not have had time for breakfast. So...brunch first?”

“Brunch. Yes. Perfect. Just five more minutes, and I’ll be ready to go. Promise.”

Lizzie found a clip to hold her twist in place, and slapped on some moisturizer and gloss. It seemed a good compromise; she wanted to look her best, but she also didn’t want to have to feel like she owed Darcy a full face of makeup every day. She stole a quick glance in the mirror and smiled at her reflection. She had to admit, she was glowing pretty much all on her own. “Yep,” she told the Lizzie in the mirror. “You look great.”

They brunched at a favorite spot of Lizzie’s-- a locally-sourced diner with fresh-squeezed orange juice served in small mason jars and bandanas for table linens. Lizzie laughed out loud at the look on Darcy’s face when he saw them, and then grinned and sang, “I told you so!” when he admitted that the food was quite good. They talked and talked and talked-- in that way that people talk when they know they have all the time in the world to tell each other their stories, but want to do it all NOW anyway. It was halfway to dinner time before they finally left the diner.

“Where to next?” asked Lizzie, swinging her hand in his as they walked down the small main street. “I chose the diner, so it’s your turn.”

Darcy smiled down at her, and then scanned the downtown for something that looked interesting. “There,” he pointed. “I do believe we can spend some length of time in a used book store, don’t you?”

Lizzie nodded eagerly. They entered together, and started moving through the same bookshelf, but at different speeds and with different focuses, it was inevitable that they separate for just a little while. “I’ll be in literary fiction,” Lizzie whispered into Darcy’s ear with a nibble. He nodded, taken with a first edition copy of _The Media Monopoly_.

Lizzie couldn’t help but grin at him from across the shop. How sexy is a man with all of his attention focused on looking at books? Dead sexy, as it turns out.

An hour later, they each had a paper bag filled with treasures. “We should make our way back to Netherfield now, I think,” Darcy mused. “We don’t want to carry all these books around for too long, and there are actually enough ingredients stocked for me to make us a sufficient dinner.”

“Sufficient, indeed?” asked Lizzie teasingly, “sounds tempting. But yes, William, I would like to go back to Netherfield now. Yes.”

They walked hand-in-hand, each of them balanced on the opposite side by their bag full of books. By the time they arrived, Lizzie found herself waning.

“Do you mind if I lie down while you’re cooking, Will?” she asked, briefly giving a thought to how his name had shifted in her head from the distant and vaguely ironic “Darcy” to the softer, warmer “Will.” “As cozy as we were last night, I don’t think I actually got that many hours of continuous sleep.”

“Of course Lizzie,” Will answered with a smile. “The room you used the last time you stayed here should be adequate, I think. It should still be made up...”

Lizzie smiled to herself at the passing thought that he had wanted to keep “her” room as it was when she had stayed there- -the first chance they had had to get to know each other at all. What an awkward time that had been! How much different things were now.

“Come and get me as soon as dinner’s ready,” she yawned behind her hand. “Promise.”

He nodded and waggled his fingers at her to signal that he was fine alone in the kitchen, and she retreated to the room and climbed under the covers with a kind of relief. The day had been beautiful and intense, and if it was going to get any more intense later in the evening, she was going to need to regain some energy.

That thought carried her under, toward dreams of the evening’s further potential, as Lizzie Bennet fell asleep with a smile plastered across her face.


	3. Dinner, and?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie and Darcy's first date ends. Who knows what will come next?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still fluffy fluff, but with some suggestion of more to come later.
> 
> I may write a sequel (under a different rating), some time later.

Lizzie woke up extremely disoriented. The disorientation was both spatial and temporal, because either it was either the right time and the wrong place, or the right place and the wrong time. But no, it really was March-- not summer-- and she really was waking up in Netherfield. 

The initial confusion had slowed Lizzie’s sleepy brain, but as she shifted to sit up, she felt a warm presence next to her and the events of the past 24 hours flashed through her brain, in reverse order. She grinned as she rolled and wound an arm around a pleasantly snuggly William Darcy. His eyelids fluttered and then steadied as he opened his eyes and smiled. “Good evening,” he said, as precise as ever.

“What time is it?” she asked him. “I thought you were going to wake me up when dinner was ready.”

Will checked his watch. “It is 8 o’clock. And dinner has been ready for some time, but when I came upstairs to fetch you, you looked too comfortable and...inviting to disturb. I apologize. It will be cold now.”

Lizzie wiggled until their faces were perfectly aligned and started tracing the shell of his ear. “What did you make?” Her fingers followed his earlobe down to the side of his neck and she leaned in to kiss the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder.

Will cleared his throat, clearly distracted by her attentions. “Um, beef roulades stuffed with bacon, mushrooms, and garlic? And served over fresh linguine and steamed spinach. It’s all, uh, reheatable...except maybe for the spinach. But I have more.”

Lizzie’s face popped up from his neck, covered in a grin. “That sounds amazing! Let’s go eat!” She leaped out of bed with renewed energy and was out of the room in a flash. He could hear her chuckling her way down the hall.

When Darcy reappeared in the kitchen, he found Lizzie perched on the counter, legs swinging impertinently, grinning impishly. He swept up to her, encircling her hips and planting a kiss on her forehead. 

“Let me just refire these roulades, and steam some more spinach. Would you open a bottle of the Lemberger, Lizzie? It needs to breathe.”

Thwarted in her attempts to tease him, Lizzie dropped off the counter and padded over to the wine cabinet. “Lemberger?” Overwhelmed by the size and scope of Netherfield’s wine selection, Lizzie stood some five minutes looking for the desired vintage, while William busied himself with the dinner. 

She finally found the wine he wanted and brought it over to the counter. She started pulling open drawers and cabinets in search of a corkscrew. All of a sudden Will’s arms appeared on either side of her, a simple waiter’s corkscrew in one hand. He deftly opened the wine from that position. Lizzie couldn’t help but focus on his strong hands and long, slender fingers as they cut and removed the foil, and screwed into the cork-- possibly a little more deeply than _strictly_ necessary. Lizzie shifted against him and cleared her throat. He reached up to the wine glass rack above their heads, without releasing her from the warmth of his arms. 

He filled each wine glass and then put the bottle down, winding his arms around her waist and whispering in her ear. “The wine needs to breathe, and the meat needs to rest. Can you think of a way to spend about ten minutes?”

Lizzie spun in his arms and answered him with a kiss. Standing, however, their height differential was less than ideal. Will reached around Lizzie’s thighs and lifted her effortlessly back up onto the counter. Every inch of her tingled as he leaned in again for a hungrier kiss. She was done with teasing, and answered him with matching hunger. As she did, every moment of their winding path to each other ran through her head: every mistaken impression, every intolerant assumption, every obstacle. Somehow they had managed to get past all of it and come together, here, now, and nothing need ever stand in their way again.

It was Will who broke off, this time. “Dinner’s ready,” he breathed, “and I’m not going to be reheating these things again.” He smiled warmly at her, promising that they would pick up where they left off, very shortly.

The dinner was amazing, even reheated. Lizzie moaned through every bite of the tender beef mixed with the savory stuffing. Will watched her intently, enjoying her pleasure in the meal he had prepared. 

“Where did you learn to cook like this?” Lizzie asked him. “Surely your family had a cook?” 

“We did, and she taught me. I found it...diverting, and more useful and productive than other hobbies. I enjoy it very much. I’ll have to make you my famous Eggs Florentine tomorrow morning.” His eyes shot up to hers, as if checking in to make sure that “tomorrow morning” was a possibility. She nodded, smiling.

They finished eating, and Lizzie stood to clear the dishes, waving away Will’s hand when he tried to stop her. “No, you made dinner, which means I clean up. This is going to be an equal relationship, Mr. Darcy, if it’s going to be anything.”

Will raised his hands up and out of her way, then rose to show her how to program the dishwasher. This task done, he wiped off the countertop, despite Lizzie’s glaring. 

He turned to her with a serious look on his face. “This has been a most enjoyable day, Lizzie Bennet. But it is coming to an end, and I would know your intentions.”

Lizzie’s eyes grew wide, “My intentions?” She stifled a giggle.

Will blushed and looked down, speaking through his discomfort. “We have spent too much time misunderstanding each other this past year. I would do what I can to prevent any further misunderstandings. And so, Lizzie Bennet, I would like to know up front: Will you be spending the night with me tonight?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy. I will.” Lizzie took him by the hand and led him upstairs.


End file.
